


BTaS Tumblr Prompts

by The_Raconteur_24601



Series: Prompts and Shorts [2]
Category: Doctor Who, The Borrowers - All Media Types
Genre: Doctor Who g/t, Doctor Who gt, G/T, TINY - Freeform, borrower companion, giant, giant tiny - Freeform, the borrowers crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-06 20:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16840228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Raconteur_24601/pseuds/The_Raconteur_24601
Summary: Prompts and possibly asks related to BTaS. Most of the prompts I initially labelled as non-canon, but the canon of BTaS is more flexible these days. Basically, anything I write about that involve Zepheera and the Tenth Doctorcouldpotentially happen in my series 'Borrowed Time (and Space)'.





	1. Fitting In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from [this list of sentence starters.](http://tinyinkyshark.tumblr.com/post/139651282127/clean-gt-sentence-starters)
> 
> This is # 17 - "I would offer for you to come in, but you won't fit in the house."

The TARDIS door creaked as the Doctor stepped out cautiously.

“Here we are. Tertas, circa five-thousand-ish. And it’s springtime! Love a good ol’ Tertatian spring! What do you think?” He turned to his companion Zepheera as she shifted on his shoulder, admiring the surroundings.

The borrower gaped at the bright green sky, streaked with mauve clouds that moved sluggishly in the light breeze. “I think it’s gorgeous,” she answered, a grin to match the Doctor’s plastered to her face.

“This’ll be an experience,” the Doctor mused as he closed the blue box behind them and sauntered off at a steady pace up a hill. “For once, you’ll be the one that fits in better than I do.”

Zepheera frowned, but knew better than to ask what he meant. Knowing him, either she’d never know the answer or she’d know in a matter of seconds.

This time, he went with the latter.

Once at the top of the hill, a tiny town could be seen in the valley below. Quite literally, a town small enough to perfectly fit hundreds of people Zepheera’s size. Her breath caught at the sight.

To her shock, the Doctor strode right in. Apparently he’d visited before, and the townspeople were rather amiable toward him. Knowing the Doctor, he’d probably saved them from utter destruction.

“Doctor!” someone called down by the Time Lord’s feet. The Doctor smiled widely when he looked down.

“Matzy!” he greeted, crouching slowly in the courtyard he’d found himself in. Zepheera peered down from her perch to see a middle-aged Tertatian man, who looked rather like a borrower if not for the purple-ish tint to his skin. “It’s been a dog’s age, how’ve you been mate? How’s the farm?”

“Going strong, thanks to you! How’s that Martha of yours getting on?”

“ _Oh_ , she’s fine, found her own way.” the Doctor practically waved off the question. “I actually want you to meet somebody. This is Zepheera. She travels with me now.” He lifted a hand to act as a ferry between his shoulder and the cobbled street, one which Zepheera eagerly took.

“Lovely to meet you!” she beamed.

“Likewise.” The Tertatian offered a hand for Zepheera to shake. “The name’s Matz, no matter what he says,” he said, cutting his eyes at the Doctor.

“That’s how I remember you!” teased the Doctor. “It’s what you went by when we met.”

“I was ten years old.” Matz laughed anyway, then turned to Zepheera once more. “Would you like to come in for tea? I’ve just put the kettle on, and I can tell you all about the Doctor’s last visit here. I assume he hasn’t told you already.”

“Only because you tell it better, Matzy ol’ pal.” The Doctor reached down and ruffled the grown man’s graying hair.

“Tea would be great, thanks!” Excited beyond belief to learn firsthand about an alien race the same size as her, Zepheera hurried into the man’s humble house. 

Matz started to follow her before glancing back at the Doctor. “I would invite you in, but you won’t fit in the house.“ 

“No worries,” said the Doctor with a grin. He stood with the intention of exploring the town further. It had expanded quite a lot since he’d last visited, and he was sure to encounter some new faces along the way.

* * *


	2. A New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from [this list of sentence starters.](http://tinyinkyshark.tumblr.com/post/139651282127/clean-gt-sentence-starters)
> 
> This is #10 - "Go away! I'm too big. I might hurt you."

Every part of Zepheera ached. Her whole body tingled with pins and needles, her head was pulsing, and when she opened her eyes her vision was blurred. That was no doubt from the flash of bright light she remembered experiencing before blacking out. Squeezing her eyes shut in attempt to banish the colorless blob in the way of her sight, she rolled over onto her back with a hiss of discomfort. _Pins and needles…_

_Zepheera,_ her own voice sounded so distant in her mind. She ignored it, concentrating instead on the feeling slowly returning in her fingertips.

A small clatter from the floor behind her caught her attention, but her headache prevented her from looking. _“Zepheera,”_ her voice called again.

She groaned, then stopped halfway through the action. That groan…didn’t sound like her own. It was deeper than she was used to, more guttural. Her hand went automatically to her throat, where she felt more than just a strange lump where before there was none. She felt a speeding and irregular pulse through the more-weathered-than-usual skin.

Gasping sharply, she bolted upright, immediately bonking her head with a yelp of surprise that wasn’t hers.

“Oi, careful! Easy on the goods there, luv!”

She turned her head toward the shrill voice a little too fast, dizziness causing the floor to approach rapidly; she just barely caught herself with a tingling forearm. Now her eyes were wide, adjusting much too slowly for her liking as she looked around for the speaker. Shapes and colors were much more clear to her now, but details were lacking and nothing seemed familiar.

“That’s it. We just all need to keep a calm head about this, okay?”

That’s when it hit her. She shifted her gaze down toward the floor and paled at the sight of _herself_. Like looking into a mirror, but the reflection was far too small. Everything snapped into focus in that instant, revealing details in this tiny double that looked odd on herself. Her arms were raised placatingly, brow pinched with a slight raise in the left one, mouth animatedly open as her chest heaved with unusually high breaths.

“Zepheera…” her tiny double’s tone was warning, in anticipation of some kind of negative reaction.

Suddenly it sank in. Only one person talked to her like that, and it certainly wasn’t herself.

Zepheera’s eyes darted to the hand she now owned, so much larger than the small figure before her. It was a hand she knew all too well, and as her panic rose it became impossible to ignore the thundering beat on the right side of her chest that echoed the left.

She shot to her feet in a complete knee-jerk reaction, but this only made matters worse. Now she was faced with the stark height difference between her proper body–all four and a half inches of it–and all seventy-three inches of her current body. She staggered backward, staring down at the frighteningly familiar blue suit she now wore, and tripping on converse-clad feet in her haste. She crashed roughly against the floor.

A grunt of effort rang out and she turned to look. Not six inches away from her right foot, her old body’s legs were dangling through the grate of the catwalk, a clear result of having fallen over thanks to the impact of the body Zepheera currently inhabited. She balked, aghast at how much weight she was responsible for now, and how easily influenced the small body that now housed the Doctor’s consciousness–a mind-blowing concept in itself–really was.

The Doctor quickly hauled himself out of the gap and started carefully toward Zepheera, intent on comforting her, reassuring her. She backed away from his approach.

“Go away!” she shouted in the Doctor’s voice, cringing when she saw her body wince at the volume. Her back met the cool metal of the railing around the console, and she curled herself into the tightest ball the Doctor’s body would allow. When she spoke again, it was practically in a whisper. “I’m too big. I might hurt you.”


	3. No Winning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ask: _a prompt based on a thought i had earlier today and a post i saw last week: "Aw, you love me." "I would sell you to Satan for one corn chip."_

_“Doctor!”_

_Fire all around, chaos everywhere, and everything is in a haze, but one thing is perfectly clear: the Doctor is badly hurt._

_Zepheera runs toward the Time Lord laying on his back and climbs up his chest to his sternum where she kneels and presses her hands against the ruined fabric of his suit. Where she always feels the steady one-two-three-four of his hearts she feels nothing. Where there is always a rise and fall as his lungs fill automatically with air there is only stillness._

_“…No…” she whispers in disbelief. “You can’t be…Come on, you great lug, get up.”  
_

_Raising her voice, she begins to rock back and forth. “Don’t do this to me. Regenerate at least, but don’t…”_

_The Doctor isn’t moving. His eyes stare blankly past Zepheera even as her own well up with tears._

_“We have to go home, Doctor,” she says feebly. “Back to the TARDIS. You and me, time and space, right? So…get up.”  
_

_Silence. Zepheera shakes more violently_

_“Please…Look at me! Listen to me, damn you, and DON’T BE–”_

Zepheera woke with a jolt. She was still on the Doctor’s chest, but they were in the TARDIS. She had fallen asleep, and he must’ve noticed she was having a nightmare and shook her awake with a finger. One look into the Time Lord’s reassuring half-smile and concerned focus on her, Zepheera relaxed in relief that it had only been a dream. She leaned into his fingers for support, a comfort the Doctor was more than willing to give.

Eventually, Zepheera felt distant enough from the dream that she was able to tell the Doctor. He listened intently until the end when he cracked a goofy grin.

“Aw, you love me,” he teased, gently nudging the borrower on his chest in the ribs.

She shied away from the intrusive touch, shoving at the finger in protest. She almost regretted telling him at all. “I would sell you to Satan for one corn chip,” she groused.

“Met the guy. Dunno if he’d take you up on that offer.”

Zepheera rolled her eyes. “There’s no winning with you.”


	4. Zepheera vs Cybermat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from [this list of sentence starters.](http://tinyinkyshark.tumblr.com/post/139651282127/clean-gt-sentence-starters)
> 
> This is #18 - "Get your over-sized mitts off of me!"

_Cybermats!_ Zepheera silently cursed, turning to run away from the rat-sized mechanical extensions of the cybermen. They were scouts for the most part, but she knew firsthand that they had a bite to them. Her stomach turned at the memory. 

A glance over her shoulder revealed there were four cybermats chasing her inside the walls, and she only had one electromagnetic charge that might not even work! She’d modeled it off a similar device she’d seen the humans use to fight off cybermen, but she hadn’t had time to test it out before the whole place had been overrun by the cyber-vermin in pursuit of her, separating her from the Doctor. 

She had no need to worry about him, he always managed to find a clever way to escape certain death. She could only hope some of that luck had rubbed off on her, because being four and a half inches tall chased by four foot-long bitey machines, Zepheera was beginning to question her chances.

Rounding a sharp corner, she caught sight of a power outlet a few yards ahead. _There!_ She just needed to make it to there. She risked one more look behind and picked up speed. The cybermats were gaining a little too close for her liking. The second she ducked past the wires connected to the outlet, she activated her charge and thrust it towards them. The miniscule device magnetized itself to the wires and blasted them with its power, creating a surge that effectively knocked out all four cybermats before they could chew their way through to Zepheera. 

She allowed herself a triumphant “Woohoo!” before climbing her way into the room outside.

The place was empty, had long been evacuated. It was pitch dark, the boarded-up windows allowing in no light; evidently, her charge had knocked out the room’s power as well. She made a mental note to make more of those devices as she crept carefully toward the nearest door. She needed to find—

Before she could finish her thought, she was swept up in a tangle of limbs and giant fingers. She began to struggle immediately; the place had been full of humans before the ambush, and she was most definitely _not_ in the mood for this.

“Get your over-sized mitts off me!” she demanded as the hands cupped around her, allowing her to reach the small knife kept hidden in her boot. Not nearly large enough to do any human real damage, but it was enough to sting, and sometimes that was all a borrower needed to stay alive.

She’d only just got her hand around the handle when her captor replied: “Easy there, pipsqueak, it’s just me!”

Looking up and seeing the Doctor’s familiar silhouette filled her with equal amounts of relief and annoyance. “I thought I told you _not_ to call me that. Or sneak up on me and grab me when I’m not looking!”

“Well _sor-ry_ for checking to make sure my friend didn’t get nibbled by cybermats!” Despite the sarcastic tone, there was actual apology in his eyes. “I was worried.”

Zepheera sighed, unable to stay mad at him for long. He wore his hearts on his sleeves, and she never once doubted that he truly cared about her. “Yeah, well I didn’t. See? All four limbs. Fine. No nibbles off me. Get us out of here, big fella, I’ll tell you all about it!”


	5. The Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from [this list of sentence starters.](http://tinyinkyshark.tumblr.com/post/139651282127/clean-gt-sentence-starters)
> 
> #11 - “Stop manhandling me. I can get there on my own.”
> 
> A continuation of [this Zepheera-Vision](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16839745/chapters/39535330)

It all happened so fast.

One minute, John Smith had been patiently scouring the internet for signs of danger–signs he would never have thought to look for if not for Zepheera, the four and a _half_ inch tall woman who had turned his life on its head. The next, his apartment door exploded and heavily shrouded figures burst in.

John flew to the nearest window with a fire escape, narrowly dodging capture, and ran like he never had before. He didn’t stop until he’d put three blocks between himself and the building, collapsing against the wall of an alleyway, breathing heavily from the exertion and adrenaline.

A squirming against the right side of his chest elicited a surprised gasp from John. He knew exactly what, or rather _who_ was struggling in the breast pocket of his shirt, but he barely remembered putting her there. He didn’t even think about it; the second he realized there was danger, his hand had been there to scoop up the borrower and ferry her to the pocket. Like some hidden instinct. 

As he reached in delicately and lifted out her rumpled figure, he received a scathing glare from Zepheera’s intense, deep violet eyes. Before all the trouble, she had set strict ground rules for personal boundaries between her and John, detailing exactly how dangerous the human hand could be to someone like her, and how unpleasant it was to be grabbed by one. He withered a little under her scrutiny.

“Sorry,” he muttered, sliding his back down the brick wall until he sat on the ground, letting the tiny woman off by his feet.

She nodded in acknowledgement of his apology once she was on solid ground, straightening her clothes and hair before regarding him again. “Did you get the watch?”

John heaved a disappointed sigh, running a hand down his face. _The fob watch_. Two days ago, it had been nothing more than an old relic he kept lying around, but now it seemed that the entire goddamn _universe_ was after it. After _him_. And he’d gone and left it with the bad guys.

“Damn it, John…” Zepheera grumbled, massaging her pounding temples. “We can’t leave it. There’s every possibility they’ll find out where we hid it.”

John nodded, having finally caught his breath. “Alright, let’s go.” Without thinking he reached for her again, stopping only when she jumped out of the way.

“Stop manhandling me!” she scolded, and he drew his hand back like she’d burned it with her words. “I can get there on my own.”

John’s eyes widened. “What?”

“They could still be there! If they get a hold of that watch, that’s bad, but if they have the watch _and_ you, that is the nightmare scenario. They want the Doctor, John, and that is the one thing we /cannot/ allow them to have.” Letting out a resigned breath, she looked up at him with a slightly softened expression. “You need to run. Go, find somewhere safe to hide. I’ve added a number to your mobile that’ll link you to the TARDIS, call it once you’re secure. I’ll find the watch. Alright?”

The human’s mouth was dry. He hated the idea of leaving Zepheera on her own with those _things_. She was so small and could be hurt so easily. Then again, he had no doubt she could use her size to her advantage.

“Alright.”


	6. Stuck in the Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTaS Canon: No  
> Episode: Day of the Doctor  
> Doctor(s): Tenth, Eleventh, and War Doctors  
> Companions: Zepheera
> 
> [Previous](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849648/chapters/39559606)

Zepheera had resigned herself to keep quiet while the two most recent incarnations of the Doctor rode out the novelty of being together with their four and a half inch tall companion. Ten, who hadn’t met Zepheera yet in his timeline, kept trying to surreptitiously learn about what was in store for him and the borrower. She or Eleven, depending on who spoke first, would always answer these types of questions with the word “Spoilers,” and Ten would moan about how the timelines were “too wibbly and I won’t remember anyway!” This only earned him a shrug and elicited a short-lived pout.

Zepheera hadn’t realized how much she had missed that pout.

Eventually the youngest incarnation of the Doctor insisted that they should be making some progress with the whole Zygon-invasion-and-painting-of-Gallifrey problem. The other two conceded and stood in unison. Zepheera got to her feet as well, throwing her single-strapped rucksack over her shoulder.

She turned to find two upturned hands in front of her, both acting as platform for her to climb on. When she looked up, the Doctors were staring each other down.

“Back off, Sandshoes!” hissed the Eleventh Doctor, nudging his counterpart away. “She’s not your companion yet!”

“Exactly! You can spend all the time you like with her, and I wanna know what I have to look forward to! I’m dying for a sneak peek.” Ten exclaimed.

Zepheera bit back a cringe at his phrasing.

Eleven shot back, “You haven’t met her yet. She hasn’t had time to properly train you up.”

“Oh, come _on_ , you know she’s not the first life form her size I’ve encountered!”

“Well it’s different when you live with one, and take it from me who took it from her, you are a shrugger!”

This took the Tenth Doctor aback. He glanced between his future self and his future companion. “I am?” he asked, sounding subdued.

Eleven nodded emphatically. “ _And_ a fidgeter.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” sighed the War Doctor, waiting semi-patiently as the other two squabbled. “You fools are arguing over the lady as though she isn’t here! If anyone’s going to decide who she goes along with, it should be her.”

Ten and Eleven shared a sheepish look and nodded, mumbling apologies to Zepheera. They stood quietly, waiting for the borrower to make her choice.

Zepheera smiled gratefully at the War Doctor, who nodded once in return. He was an enigmatic one, that much was certain, but he seemed just as sweet and caring as the Doctors she knew and loved. She made a mental note to find some time alone with him later, sit down and get to know the Doctor before she knew him.

But for now, she had a decision to make. After a short moment of deliberation, she took a deep breath and approached Eleven. He clapped his hands triumphantly before offering her one to climb onto. Ten sighed but accepted Zepheera’s choice. As Eleven lifted her to his shoulder, she shot Ten an apologetic look.

“You _are_ fidgety. And a shrugger,” she admitted. Ten nodded, barely suppressing a pout at Eleven’s smug look.

A small smirk tugged at Zepheera’s lip. “To your credit, though, you _did_ train up faster than this one.”

Ten snorted and Eleven’s jaw dropped in indignation. “Oh, thanks a lot there, pipsqueak! Let’s just go already.”

“Finally,” muttered the War Doctor.

As they were leaving, Ten crept up behind Eleven and softly asked Zepheera, “How on Earth do you even stay up there with, y'know…” He rubbed his chin, raising a questioning eyebrow at the small woman.

“He slouches,” hissed Zepheera in reply, twisting around to wink conspiratorially at Ten.

“Oh, leave off, you two!” grumbled Eleven.

Ten smirked. “I have a feeling I like you, Zepheera.”

“I should hope so,” she said, facing front again before he could catch the hint of sadness that made it into her smile and eyes.

_I’ve missed you._


	7. Shoulder Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTaS Canon: No  
> Episode: Vincent and the Doctor  
> Doctor(s): Eleventh Doctor  
> Companion(s): Zepheera, Amy Pond, Vincent Van Gogh

A shriek split the quiet of the night. 

“Amy!” The Doctor jumped up out of his chair and ran out back, Vincent following closely behind. 

Meeting Vincent van Gogh had been a bizarre experience, for Zepheera especially. Unlike the Doctor and Amy, she wasn’t allowed to interact with him. The Doctor had insisted on taking precaution when traveling back in time to meet the renowned painter, who had the potential to be unstable or volatile, a potential threat to the four and a half inch tall woman. 

She had already been wearing a perception filter attached to a TARDIS key on their visit to the Musée d'Orsay to avoid being seen by the humans there, so she kept it on for their journey back in time. The borrower kept to the Doctor’s shoulder, observing and occasionally whispering in the Doctor’s ear when she couldn’t keep a comment or suggestion to herself. While this allowed her to see the living legend of van Gogh up close and almost personal, it did mean she had to silently endure endless van Gogh puns and flirtatious conversations between the present humans that consisted primarily of remarks about their hair color. 

At first, Zepheera wondered if this precaution had been an overreaction. Vincent seemed quite level-headed, albeit eccentric. Once or twice during the initial conversation with her companions and Vincent, the borrower almost thought Vincent was looking right at her. But a second later he’d be looking elsewhere, and Zepheera reminded herself that that was impossible. He was nervous, meeting new people and used to people mocking him. His eyes shifted and jumped around whenever he wasn’t talking to Amy. 

On the other hand, after the painter had his evening coffee, he became nearly manic. Not violent necessarily, but he lost all sense of volume control and said whatever came to mind. He had been ranting about colors speaking to him when they all heard Amy scream. 

Zepheera flattened herself against the Doctor’s tweed jacket as he rushed into the garden out back, calling Amy’s name repeatedly. They found her in a heap on the ground, breathing hard and looking around frantically. 

“What happened?” asked the Doctor, following his human companion’s gaze. 

“I dunno, I didn’t see it,” Amy gasped. “I was just having a look at some of the paintings out here when something hit me from behind." 

The Doctor nodded. "It’s okay, it’s gone now. We’re here." 

Suddenly Vincent gave a shout that made Zepheera jump. The Doctor tried to calm him down, raising his own voice to be heard over Vincent’s continued cries. All the noise overwhelmed Zepheera, and she clapped her hands over her ears. This succeeded in dampening the volume a little, but also eliminated any coherency in the massive speech. So she scanned the area to try and figure out what was going on through observation. 

Vincent’s eyes were wide, utterly terrified, and he held a defensive hand between him and the Doctor. But he was looking past the Doctor, Zepheera realized. She whirled around, and the sight made her heart race. 

"Doctor!” she called desperately as the enormous, horrifying creature before her crept toward the Doctor and Amy. A warning about the monster caught in her throat as the Doctor moved sharply aside, and her hands flew from her ears to grip the jacket again. Her eyes widened even more when she saw that Vincent was charging the beast with some kind of pitchfork. 

“Doctor, what’s happening?” Amy demanded. 

“I don’t know,” said the Doctor, perplexed and concerned. 

Vincent swung the pitchfork toward the creature until it backed into a wall, then bounded off into a more shadowy area of the garden. “Run!” he urged, waving for Amy and the Doctor to get away. 

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” muttered the Doctor as he carefully approached Vincent. “Amy, get back! He’s having some kind of fit!" 

Zepheera, who had lost sight of the creature at the same time as Vincent, stopped searching for it to frown at the Doctor. Had he not seen the monstrous being? 

Unless he _couldn’t_. Borrowers like Zepheera had developed heightened senses of perception over the years; she had seen things that even the Doctor was unable to in the past. For whatever reason, Vincent had to be an exception because he _definitely_ saw the creature. 

The Doctor tried to talk Vincent down when the painter held his weapon at the ready, awaiting the creature’s next move. A growl to the right caught Zepheera’s ear, and she turned to find a massive tail preparing to strike the Doctor from behind. 

"Doctor, duck left!” The Time Lord glanced to the right, confused when he saw nothing, but he followed Zepheera’s instructions and dodged to the left. He moved about a half second too late and got clipped on his right arm as the tail swung at him, and he was still knocked off-balance. But now he could no longer deny that there was something there. 

The Doctor brandished a stick of his own and, with Zepheera’s help, he and Vincent managed to drive the creature away. 

“It’s gone, Vincent confirmed. 

The Doctor nodded, tossing aside his stick. "Excellent. Good work, Vincent." 

With an eyebrow raised at the Doctor, Vincent said, "You couldn’t see it, could you Doctor?" 

"Yes! …Well, okay, no, but–” the Doctor sputtered. 

“It’s alright,” Vincent assured, setting down his pitchfork. They started toward Amy, intent on going back inside. “In any case, you’re a lucky man. You might have been hurt were it not for your shoulder angel protecting you." 

The Doctor froze and Zepheera stiffened. "My what?” asked the Doctor. 

“Your shoulder angel,” Vincent repeated, smiling at Zepheera. “I’ve been watching her guide you all night." 

Zepheera flushed. _He could see me the entire time._

Vincent continued as they walked. "To be honest, she was quite a shock to see. But since I’ve never seen anything like her on the shoulders of the people in this town, and you offered to help me, I chose to take it as a sign. Perhaps your visit will do me some good after all.”

* * *


	8. No Time For Arguing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this G/T prompt list.](http://tiny-rook.tumblr.com/post/178463272795/this-prompt-list-is-brought-to-you-by-lilegite)
> 
> 22\. Cramped

“No way!”

“C'mon!” the Doctor hissed desperately, glancing over his shoulder. They were coming, and he doubted they’d be particularly friendly or mindful of his small companion. He needed to get her out of sight, and she picked _now_ of all times to be stubborn! “It won’t be for long, I promise.”

Zepheera remained firm and shook her head in protest, the shallow rise and fall of her chest beneath her tightly crossed arms the only thing visibly belying her stress. “I’m _not_ going in a pocket!” she snipped back. “I can’t _do_ anything in there, all dark and cramped and–!”

“It’s not gonna–!” The Doctor’s hushed rebuttal was cut short by the chorus of footsteps approaching. He looked pleadingly at Zepheera. “Sorry. No time for arguing.”

With that he moved the hand holding Zepheera, fingers curling protectively as she lost balance and fell in a heap in his palm, and the next thing Zepheera knew she was falling.

_Falling_ had been unexpected. Zepheera actually had time to yelp before she hit the bottom.

She gave a dazed moan as she maneuvered herself to lie on her back to take stock of her surroundings. Fabric rose up like massive walls on either side of her, and there was definitely a seam under her back. All the makings of a pocket, except this one stretched out much further than any Zepheera could imagine.

A small sliver of light overhead was the only indicator of how deep she was compared to her expectations. The opening of the pocket was still a standard size, and given the distance between it and Zepheera, it seemed even smaller. She glared at it as she pushed herself up to sit and, gripping the fabric for stability, pulled herself to her feet. If she concentrated, she could see the opening moving, and she counted herself lucky that whatever was going on up there, she wasn’t feeling the full effect of the Doctor’s movements.

Certainly didn’t stop her from being thoroughly miffed about the whole situation.

“At least it isn’t _cramped_ ,” Zepheera grumbled as she started to climb her way back up.


	9. The Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this list of G/T prompts](http://tiny-rook.tumblr.com/post/178463272795/this-prompt-list-is-brought-to-you-by-lilegite)
> 
> 2\. Protect

The entire bridge shook like it belonged in a snow globe. Few people maintained their footing as something collided with the ship and sent it plummeting toward the planet below. The Doctor was not one of those people.

Sprawled across the trembling floor, he took a split second to take stock. Though he’d landed hard, he hadn’t sustained any notable physical injuries.

That wasn’t his main concern.

“Doctor!”

His four inch tall companion, who was perched on his shoulder before the crash, had been thrown several feet away in the impact. What was worse, the deepening angle of the falling ship created a slope that dragged her woefully light body along the smooth floor.

“Zepheera!” Lunging forward, the Doctor threw his hand out, stretching himself across the floor to close the distance.

His hand curled protectively as Zepheera slid into it. Immediately he felt her give him her miniscule weight, the fluttering of her tiny hands searching for purchase.

The ship lurched again, sending more people tumbling. The Doctor’s other hand cupped around the first, and right then the metal of the ceiling groaned.

The Doctor folded himself over his hands to shield Zepheera as the ceiling came crashing down.


	11. Some Lottery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun with the 13th Doctor, who kinda sorta looks a little familiar...
> 
> Based on [this G/T prompt list](http://tiny-rook.tumblr.com/post/178463272795/this-prompt-list-is-brought-to-you-by-lilegite)
> 
> 3\. Theft.

“You’ve totally copied me!”

“I’ve done no such thing!” asserted the newly regenerated Doctor, putting her hands on her hops in an unintentional mimic of her inches-tall companion. She’d started off so excited to be able to see and interact with Zepheera at the borrower’s own scale, until accusations were flung.

With a flat look, Zepheera placed a hand flat on the top of her head and traced a straight line from it to the Doctor’s. Before, whenever Zepheera was ever the same size as previous incarnations of the Time Lord, he’d always ended up a bit taller than Zepheera. This time they were dead even.

The Doctor scoffed. “That’s hardly my f–!”

Zepheera lowered her hand to pinch a short blonde lock between her fingers. The length and style of the Doctor’s new hair wasn’t too different from Zepheera’s other than in color.

The Doctor frowned but batted at Zepheera’s hand. “Coincidence!” she maintained. “Regeneration’s a lottery…”

“You can at least admit to the shirt and the boots, Doctor!” Zepheera gestured to the Doctor’s wardrobe, which she picked out herself and couldn’t possibly blame on the regeneration.

The Doctor opened her mouth to argue, then looked down at herself. Despite Zepheera’s t-shirt and boots being hand made by either herself or others her size and thus being much simpler in design, the Doctor couldn’t deny they were quite similar.

“Well you make it sound like stealing!” she protested, pouting when Zepheera rolled her violet eyes with a chuckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Outfit swap commission drawn by the wonderful [QuackGhost (DA)](https://www.deviantart.com/quackghost)


	12. Camoflage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More 13th Doctor fun
> 
> Based on [this list of G/T prompts](http://tiny-rook.tumblr.com/post/178463272795/this-prompt-list-is-brought-to-you-by-lilegite)
> 
> 7\. Kigurumi

Zepheera sat on a railing outside one of the TARDIS’ many dressing rooms in one of its many wardrobes, waiting for the Doctor to re-emerge. She had no idea why the Doctor was on the lookout for another outfit. There wasn’t anything wrong with the one she had, and besides that, Zepheera could recall the Doctors she’d known had only worn one or two.

Back before he became a _she._

An exclamation of delight tugged the borrower out of her thoughts, and Zepheera perked up when the Doctor’s shape returned in the doorway.

It was a very odd shape indeed, and a far cry from the _last_ outfit the Doctor picked. It didn’t seem to have much shape at all, as baggy as the soft material was.

“No,” Zepheera said flatly, ignoring the slight pang of guilt at the sight of the Doctor’s excited grin melting away.

“What? What’s wrong with it?” The Doctor tugged at the plush material, as if to show off how baggy it truly was.

“What is it even supposed to be?”

“Camouflage!” With a bright smile, the Doctor reached back and flipped up the hood that Zepheera hadn’t realized was there. Attached to the top was enough fabric to give it the impression that it was mimicking the appearance of an animal, including a slight protruding snout with felt teeth sticking out. “I’m a big bad wolf!” she announced proudly.

Zepheera frowned and supposed that explained the big white patch all down the Doctor’s front that she could only now assume was meant to represent underbelly fur. “The only place you’d blend in in _that_ is a slumber party.”

The Doctor pouted, first in defeat and then in consideration. “Well, I like it, I’m keeping it on the back burner.” With that, she flipped back the hood and vanished once more in a flash of static-y blonde hair.

“You’re not wearing that out in public!” Zepheera called after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspiration for the Doctor's outfit](https://www.shoppajama.com/adult-onesies/black-timber-wolf-kigurumi-onesie-pajama-for-adult-costume?gclid=Cj0KCQjw3ebdBRC1ARIsAD8U0V4WdCnr69jJLDSC82rvNYUo2xQgjw_7re9NwdXr3pQKORdldANwk3MaAl3gEALw_wcB)


End file.
